There's no freedom to this,
A hook on wet fish,
withering around skittering
and dumped in your bucket,
I looked so hard in the Abyss
Obstacles bounded by trees,
and roaring of that engine
in a little 250 mountain scooter,
A distraction from this something....

Cold ice blocks fall from the cavern,
like icy pikes that could not strike my eye.
But there's a reason for this obsession,
or your fantasy exists for nothing at all.

All the ****** dreams can't oil my limbs,
Any injections of opiates can't cure my phobias.
All the bottles of liquor won't make me better,
All the grass of this keep, just makes me needier.